


Thank God for socks and sandals

by orphan_account



Category: Shatter Me Series - Tahereh Mafi
Genre: Defy me, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, How did this even turn into smut, Oral Sex, Post Defy Me, Smut, Teasing, They are all literally four year olds, Warnette, kenjis favorite movie is literally Tangled, sector 241, shatter me, they watch Barbie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 14:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19402522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Aaron Warner doesn’t ask his fiancée’s opinion about his clothing choices, but because of limited availability of his usual high fashion, he chooses something rather different. His only request is that she doesn’t judge him. But maybe she might like it a lot better than she thought.





	Thank God for socks and sandals

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a prompt on Tumblr from @/imagineyourotp

“Okay, I know what you’re going to say,” Warner says with an uncharastically nervous tremor as he walks into our tent in our newfound home. He continues, “Just please, please don’t laugh. I know that fashion isn't your expertise, but just please don’t judge.”  
Confused, I say, “Whatever do you mean, Aaron? What am I not laughing at?” He’s not usually not so keen on my advice on his fashion choices.  
He learned not to trust my opinion about his clothing back at sector 45. He had held two identical emerald ties, I suppose to match his eyes, and asked me which one. I said, “Aren’t they, um, the same tie?” I now know, after his lecturing me about pigments and how certain fabrics go with certain fabrics, not to make such claims about his clothes.  
I look down, pondering at what could be the matter and that's when I see it. Oh, God. I really hadn’t expected this. No, no. Not this. Is he really wearing socks and sandals? He notices my shocked expression and raises his pale eyebrows.  
When Warner told me, because of the lack of clothes choices in sector 241, that Haider was going to lend Warner some of his clothes seeing as he was able to bring what he packed to sector 45, which was an abundance to say the least. I thought Warner was going to come back with a technicolored plethora of bright clothes. And, well, he is wearing a bright, sky blue blazer with dark, bejeweled gray accents on the sleeves to match his socks. And then the same blue as dress pants. So that prediction wasn’t so far off.  
Without meaning to, let out a laugh. Not just a chuckle, but a loud, roaring laugh. I fall back on the bed apologizing between giggles. I cover my reddened face, looking shamefully at him. “I’m sorry, I really am. I just didn’t expect this,” I say.  
He sits next to my stretched out legs on the bed, gentling them down with a hand. “Is it really that bad?”  
“No”  
I give myself away with a laugh  
“But, no really you look fine, darling.”  
“You are absolutely adorable when you laugh, love,” he returns, “and not to mention gorgeous when you blush,” he says lowering his voice. I smile wider at that, sensing the change in the room.  
He leans down, his nose nearly brushing mine. Just as he leans in closer, “Liar,” he says with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He presses his lips to mine and parts them like petals on a blooming rose. The kiss is soft and urgent and passionate and everything about it makes me want more. He caresses my cheekbones and moves his hand through my hair.  
His lips make their way to my neck, where my jaw meets my earlobe, where the column of my neck meets my collar bone. The once casual kiss turns suddenly as he sucks at the skin of my throat.  
“You know, Naz is expecting us for lunch, right?” I force out, remembering my promise to discuss getting more supplies for the camp, particularly for us since the four of us came here with one set of clothes on us and then only has one more set here.  
He exhales against my temple. “Yeah, yes I know.”  
Noticing his disappointed expression, “Hey, it’ll only be for, like, an hour or so, okay, darling?”  
His face softens at my use of “darling”. I’ve been calling him that more often recently due to the fact that he constantly calls me either “love” or “sweetheart”. I decided that he was definitely deserving of an endearing name too.  
“Okay,” is all he says. And we head out to the dining hall.  
…  
Nazeera and Kenji sit across from each other at an outside table near the entrance of the hall. Nazeera waves at me from her spot, I smile back at her.  
When we get to the table Kenji greets us, Warner manages not to glare at him. Nazeera motions to the buffet counter filled with chicken alfredo, penne noodles, different sauces, and salads. I make my way over there and encourage Warner to do so as well because I’m sure he hasn’t eaten all that well since we got back from New Zealand. I shiver a little at the memory.  
When we are seated, me next to Nazeera and across from Aaron, him next to Kenji, we start delving into reusable and durable fabrics and where to acquire said fabrics.  
I remember, at Omega Point, the myriad of clothing, towels, toothbrushes, soap, food, and even weaponry spanning from handheld guns to knives to minor explosives that were easy to travel with and so on. I mention posible warehouse trips like the ones we did when we were at Omega Point.  
Kenji appears slightly astonished at my recommendation, “This ain’t Goodwill, princess. We can’t just walk into a random warehouse like we own the damn place.”  
Nazeera looks to me, concerned, “It’s okay, we can definitely bring it up with Nouria. In the meantime, I think we can all benefit from some new clothes at the very least, but I think someone is doing just fine,” she sends a pointed look at Warner.  
He puts his hand up in mock exasperation, “Look, Haider really insisted on lending me his. I can understand where you’re coming from-”  
“Are you trying to blame my brother for-”  
“N-no of course not. I am only explaining myself,” he says.  
I think I need to say something to ease the tension from the table, “Isn’t the weather so nice today. Like really, I haven’t seen it so nice since, like, ten years ago,” I chuckle, “Too bad none of you can see it,” I blabber.  
Aaron gives me an amused glance and smiles, really smiles at me.  
Nazeera gives me an ‘are you ok, girl?’ look, but I can tell it’s laced with vague beguilement.  
The lunch continues on for about 30 more minutes until we’re all done with our plates. The subject turns from the benefits of forcing carbon fixation(I have no clue really) to, surprisingly, mine and Aaron’s wedding.  
“So are you guys gonna go more old fashioned? Like, Juliette, are you wearing white or, I was thinking that you could actually wear purple. Y’know, because you’re old suit was purple,” says Alia, who joined our table about fifteen minutes ago. Wow, I hadn’t thought of it that deeply, or at all in fact. Honestly, Alia seems more invested in the planning of our wedding than I am.  
“Oh, really? I just thought that I would wear whatever is available. I hadn’t really thought about it,” I voice the thought to her.  
Aaron seems confused at this, “What do you mean whatever is available? Don’t you want to wear something as beautiful as you are to our wedding, love,” he says. Two thoughts run through my head. The first, that I love this man so much for thinking about what I was wearing to our wedding and the second, Oh, no, I’ve upset the king of fashion.  
“Yes, yes I do. I do want that.”  
“Hey, save the ‘i dos’ for the actual wedding,” Kenji says, pretending to gag.  
I notice Nazeera smiling brightly at Kenji. And I wonder if Nazeera cares for Kenji in the way I do or if it’s something more.  
Ten more minutes pass and Warner looks positively drained. Not exactly tired, but just perhaps bored seeing as we’re now discussing old movies and tv shows in which I’m positive that he has never watched in his life.  
Kenji and Alia are on to discoursing over which Barbie movie is the best. Kenji says Princess and the Pauper(which I wholeheartedly agree with, of course) and Alia says Thumablina(really, really?).  
And that’s when I feel Aaron’s sandaless, crossed feet settle at the edge of my chair, in between my legs. I decide to ignore it for now and further debate cinema with Kenji, Alia, and Nazeera.  
“Um, excuse me, while you little shits were all watching Barbie, my parents were trying to get me interested in watching Chernobyl and war documentaries. How is that at all fair?,” Nazeera chimes in.  
“Well did it work?” I ask.  
“Did what work?”  
“Do you have an intense interest of Chernobyl and Ken Barnes?”  
“Short answer: no. Long answer: I would rather watch Mufasa’s death scene on a continuous loop than watch a Ken Barnes documentary,” she says sarcastically.  
“That’s evil!” Kenji protests.  
Alia makes a horrified face at Nazeera.  
A few more minutes pass, filled with the game of “M.A.S.H” on a piece of scratch paper which I have never heard of and don’t know how to play.  
That’s when Aaron’s feet begin to stretch against my inner thigh. My skin tingles and suddenly I want him closer to me.  
I make eye contact with him and upon seeing my expression, he moves the tip of one foot closer to my core. His eyes are filled with a playfulness only I can see. He scanned my body, my face for signs that he should stop. And, seeing none, he begins to move his sock covered foot against my body.  
I jump a little in my seat. His mouth lifts in a teasing grin, but only for a second. He slides himself up and down, up and down my center.  
He knows exactly what he’s doing to me and exactly what I want. I know he can feel my warm dampness, even through three layers of clothing.  
He stops for a moment, trying to find my pleasure center. Once he’s found it, he boldly rolls all of his movement into it.  
I hold back a gasp. I’m dazed at the effort he puts into teasing me.  
But, right now we’re in public. Right in front of our friends. I can’t believe he’s doing what he’s doing here, right now.  
He rubs slowly at my nub and I roll my hips forward slightly. He moves up and down my slit and pleasure center, then around. First clockwise and then, oh, counter clockwise.  
If he didn’t feel my wet arousal before, he definitely feels it now.  
I break eye contact with him. I reach down to caress his leg. I want him to feel like a tingling mess like me, but it’s impossible to reach. I stroke the top of his foot. And then In a bold measure, I rub my clit through my pants. I keep my hand under the table and try not to move my elbow.  
His eyes pop open wide in amazement that i’m touching myself right here. For him. And he knows it by the way he shifts in his seat.  
A cycle of his slight movements and mine put together give us both a hard blush. This continues on for about two or three more minutes until he slips his own hand down to caress himself.  
Okay, this is enough. I let him know this by dramatically looking down at my leather strung watch and say, “Hey, Aaron. Aren’t we supposed to see Nouria about that thing about the shower?” I say a little too loudly to let our companions know that we are leaving. And not for selfish reasons. Which we definitely aren’t.  
Aaron catches on. “Right. Yes I think that shower might have seen a little too much action in its day.” he says, referring to one of our first activities when we came to camp. I smile at him, letting him know that I understood that reference.  
“Um, yeah. Sorry guys but it’s kinda urgent.” my eyes glint with deviance.  
They just wave us off and say a goodbye or two, too invested in their game to notice.  
…  
We practically crash back into our tent. My legs are wrapped around his hips almost instantly. He kisses my neck, sucking harshly at my jaw. His hips grind into mine in the most sinful way possible. I moan.  
Our lips meet desperately. The kiss is wet and a little sloppy, but it doesn’t matter now. He presses me to the door frame and swiftly locks the door.  
Everytime he grinds against me I duplicate it, feeling his firm hardness through his pants. I aim to rub him firmly with my own arousal and from the way he stiffens and stops his movements to turn his face into my neck to muffle his moan I know that he’s all mine.  
We continue like that until he moves away from the door, his hands firm on my ass. Still kissing, he turns to pin my body to the opposite wall, by our bed. And, instead of laying me out on the bed, he sets me down, staring at me as if I’m already naked.  
My shirt is off in a moment, my bra is unclipped in the next. He takes my right nipple into his mouth sucking fiercely and earnestly, biting a little at the tip. “Ohh my god. Aaron, Aaron please.”  
He takes the next one and massages my right breast into his hand. All the while looking into my face in his crouched position.  
I shove my dark-wash jeans down and shuck them off at my ankles.  
His lips skim between my breasts and slowly, so slowly down my torso. His mouth is pressed to my navel which he licks down until he meets my underwear. He licks down that, too.  
I sigh loudly when he kisses me through my underwear. And then works them down my thighs, past my knees, and finally, finally past my ankles.  
Aaron swiftly lifts my thighs so my knees rest on his muscled, clothed shoulders. I hiss a breath through my teeth when his tongue strokes my slit. All the way to my engorged clit. Which he takes extra time to suck at. He pulls it into his mouth harshly. Then he makes his way further down and up again. He continues this movement over and over and over again until a loud, long moan breeches my lips.  
He looks up at me studying my face, my lips. Then down to my chest, my breasts, my lean abdominals, and finally my navel.  
It takes me by surprise when his hands travel up from their place on my hips to my waist and then between my breasts where he gently caresses the skin all the way up to the column of my throat.  
“You know that I will never hurt you, Juliette. I will never lay a hand on you if you don’t want me to. Please know that you are the most stunning, gorgeous, smart, creative, ingenious woman I have ever known,” he says, tears brimming his eyes, but he doesn’t look upset.  
“I love you too, Aaron Warner,” even after all this time I still love the sound of his name on my lips, in my mouth. Because it was the name his mother gave to him. The one belonging to the boy that I would give anything, absolutely anything, “God, I love you so much.”  
He gently lowers me down so I’m standing. He kisses each of my hip bones and then stands to full height. He begins to take his blazer off, but I stop him.  
He looks up and, understanding, lowers his arms. I deliberately gentle it off his strong figure. Then his undershirt comes next, it falls down beside him.  
I kiss from his collar and across his chest. In between his pectorals and further down, suckling along the way.  
I want to show him how much I treasure his body. His mind. His heart.  
I shower his abs and in between each rib. And then back up. And down to his hips where his Shakespearean tattoo lies. I make my way back up and to his sensitive throat, never looking to his face. I kiss his lips so softly.  
I notice the taste of salt on my mouth.  
He’s been crying.  
I wipe my thumb across the right side of his face whilst kissing the other side.  
“I-I just. That was really intense, love...your feelings- I’m so sensitive to you. Weather your across the room or in my arms, I can’t seem to process how much you,” he searches for words, “care about me.”  
I take his face into my hands. Kiss him quickly, but hard.  
“I will always care for you, love you, and be here for you. I promise you, Aaron.”  
He kisses me back harder. A fire ignites between us again. Like it always has. This passion knows no bounds.  
I’m in his arms again as he lays me on the bed, vertically. I brush my fingers against his stomach. And then to his zipper. I stroke up and down. He shakes.  
He quickly unbuttons his pants while I unzip. He pulls the bright fabric down his legs.  
I moan when I see his throbbing bulge through his black boxers. I cup him in my hand tenderly and then with more pressure. He moans.  
I lean more onto the bed. He follows like a magnet. He pulls his boxers down and unearths his smooth, hard cock.  
He leans next to me on our bed.  
I grasp his thick manhood into my hands and run it through my fingers. I trace the blushed tip with my thumb. He groans and thrusts his hips upwards. Warmth from the tip coats my palm. I spread it over him. He moans, helplessly.  
He flips me unto my back and kisses me frantically. His hips aligning with mine. Our legs tangling until I finally wrap mine around his waist again. He continues to kiss down to my jaw and bites down a little. I moan at the friction.  
He stops for a moment, “Is this alright, love?” he asks with heated vehemency.  
“Yes, yes.”  
He grasps himself and enters me. Though we have done this so many times he always feels completely new and fits me like he was born to be inside of me.  
He leans out and further in and repeats that. I grasp him to me harder and he takes that as a sign to go rougher.  
“Ooohh. Please. Hmm.”  
He groans ferociously. His wet erection moving into me harder.  
“You do so many terrible things to my mind, love.”  
I moan at his words, but ask, “Like what?”  
“You make me want to stay here with you forever. You say certain things, like ‘I want you’ or ‘I love you’ and I can’t stop thinking about what you taste like. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to fuck you when we get back here. Or anywhere, really.”  
Oh, God. I hadn’t expected that. Not at all. His words turn my core into an ocean. The waves knock into me and I have no defence when he finds that spot inside me and rolls over it again and again.  
“Aaron. Please. Harder,” I scream.  
His cock pumps into me faster and harder and deeper. I feel like crying.  
He desperately leans into me. Frustrated, he just lets his left knee sink into the bed. He pauses and then thrusts into me harder than before.  
“Oh, baby. I’m about to-I’m going to-” he shutters.  
He manages to hold on for another moment. I’m almost there. Almost. So fucking close. Just three more will surely send me.  
“OH.”  
“Juliette.”  
“AARON.”  
“Hmm. OH.”  
His cum coats the inside of me and he releases in sharp thrusts. I follow him, my core throbbing.  
We release in waves and stay, wrapped together, quietly moaning each other's names.  
…  
He stirs awake. Stretches. And looks at me like he just woke up in heaven.  
“I love you,” I tell him simply.  
He smiles sleeplily, “I love you too, sweetheart.”  
And to think this all happened because Warner wore socks with sandals.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I’m open to constructive criticism *hint hint wink wink* on constructive :)


End file.
